Read, Write, Love at Seaside(15)
Leanna was cooking hamburgers on the grill when she heard Bella talking with their friend Amy Maples in the area behind her cottage. A minute later Bella peered over the gate.
“Hey, chicky. Is Mr. Sexy here?”
Leanna laughed. “No. Mr. Sexy isn’t here.”
Bella and Amy joined her on the deck in their typical summer outfits, sundresses worn over their bathing suits. Amy had straight, short blond hair and was about as big around as a pencil, with expressive green eyes and a big heart. Pepper ran circles around them, barking at Amy, his favorite female human. Leanna sometimes wondered if Pepper was more attached to Amy than to her. Amy crouched, and Pepper rolled onto his back so Amy could rub his belly.
“How’s my favorite boy?” she crooned. “Did you get to see Mr. Sexy, too? Am I the only one who didn’t get to meet the handsome writer?”
“Um, no.” Jenna Ward lived in the cottage next to Bella, and she’d inherited her one-bedroom cottage from her mother. She walked through the front gate wearing a one-piece bathing suit and a colorful sarong wrapped around her waist. She wore her pin-straight dark hair in a short blunt cut just below her ears, and she had a wide smile on her face. She threw an arm around Leanna and kissed her cheek. “How are you, sugar?”
“Good. You?”
“Feeling a little left out. Who’s Mr. Sexy? And what’s up with the bottom-baring sundress? You look cute as a button, but unless you have a date, you’re wasting it on us.”
Leanna glanced over her shoulder and looked down. “Can you really see my butt?”
“Just the curve of it,” Amy said. “Who cares? It’s just us. Hey, can I have a burger?”
Leanna put one hand on her hip. “How many do you see on my grill?”
“Four,” Bella answered as she went inside Leanna’s cottage.
“Would I ever leave you girls hanging?”
“Never.” Bella came back out with a plate and handed it to Leanna. “I’ll get the lettuce and tomato from my place.”
“I’ve got the buns,” Amy said as she stepped from the deck and headed toward her cottage.
“I think Leanna has those covered.” Jenna smacked Leanna’s butt. “Mr. Sexy. Spill it.”
“They’re overreacting.” Just the thought of Kurt sent a little thrill through her, and when she thought of the way his eyes darkened as he almost kissed her, her entire body shuddered. Oh, how she’d wanted that kiss. She could almost taste it. “I met Kurt Remington, and I guess he’s a big-time thriller writer.”
“No way.” Jenna’s baby blues widened. “You met him? Like in person?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I love his books. What’s he like? Is he as cute as his pictures? He seems kind of reclusive from the interviews I’ve read. The way he answered their questions, it seems like he never leaves his house—except he did mention his family a lot. Oh, and a house on the Cape. Oh my gosh. He’s here writing! That’s what he said in the interview, that in the summers he comes to the Cape to write.” Jenna tucked her straight dark hair behind her ear and closed her eyes for a second. “I wouldn’t mind being reclusive with him.”
“Yeah, me either. That’s the problem.” Leanna sighed.
“What’s the problem?” Bella took the spatula from Leanna’s hand and flipped the burgers.
“Leanna wants to write a new chapter in Mr. Sexy’s book.” Jenna took a tomato from Bella’s plate, and Bella smacked her hand.
Amy returned with a plate of buns. “A dirty chapter?”
“Oh! I almost forgot to show you!” Jenna reached into the deep cleavage between her enormous bosoms and pulled out a perfect, white oval rock. “Cool, right?”
Leanna, Amy, and Bella exchanged an eye roll.
“What? Look at it.” Jenna ran her hands over the smooth stone. She collected rocks like other people collected antiques or figurines. She refused to carry buckets while she trolled the beaches for rocks, and she often came back with her cleavage overflowing and tiny rocks tucked in between her cheek and her teeth. She stuck out her lower lip and stroked the rock. “Well, I like it. At least I’m not hitting the yard sales this summer and bringing home all kinds of stuff that you guys hate.”
Jenna was an elementary school art teacher, and her direct personality and hearty laugh made her seem much taller than her almost five-foot stature. She summered at the Cape each year in her one-bedroom cottage, and she lived on a shoestring budget, but last year she’d gone to a slew of yard sales and brought home some of the gaudiest yard decorations they’d ever seen. The girls had formed an intervention and stolen every one of them one night while she was asleep, and in their place, they’d left little notes that read, We love you, but…stick to rocks, please!